


Invicta

by strongplacebo



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-19
Updated: 2008-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 02:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1627439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strongplacebo/pseuds/strongplacebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She is exceedingly pretty." Aphrodite looks down upon the child.</p><p>"She was born from an egg," Athena says, gesturing for the cup bearer.</p><p>"Yes, well," Aphrodite says, reclining back on the couch. "I don't think either of us can really judge people based on the manner of their birth."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invicta

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Emily Ray
> 
> Written for iphianassa

 

 

"She is exceedingly pretty." Aphrodite looks down upon the child. 

"She was born from an egg," Athena says, gesturing for the cup bearer. 

"Yes, well," Aphrodite says, reclining back on the couch. "I don't think either of us can really judge people based on the manner of their birth."

*

Helen is only ten when Theseus abducts her. Theseus is apparently ahead of the game. Aphrodite watches Helen cry for a while, until the redness of her eyes begins to mar even that tragic beauty, then she pays a visit to Aethra's house.

"What's wrong, child?" Aphrodite asks. Helen doesn't answer, she just cries harder. Aphrodite grows bored of watching her. 

"You could do a lot worse than Theseus, you know," she tells the girl, lying on the bed beside her and stroking the sheets. They're so soft and Aphrodite rubs her legs against them, feeling the fabric on her calves and ankles. Helen doesn't stop crying. 

"Very well," Aphrodite sighs. After all, she thinks, these sheets would be heavenly to have sex on. "Your brothers will be here soon."

Helen looks up, reddened eyes glistening. Aphrodite shimmers and gasps and takes the form of a man, a young man with golden curls, strong arms and, though Aphrodite says it herself, a rather beautifully proportioned cock. When Castor and Pollux arrive, Aethra is distracted. Lust is such a useful thing to blind someone with and those sheets did feel exquisite on so much bare skin.

*

Aphrodite visits her in Sparta afterwards. She's back to being happy again, back to laughing. Her smile is still prettier than her tears, which get old too soon.

"I'm glad to see you happy, child," Aphrodite says, stroking Helen's soft, thick hair. 

"Thank you for helping me," Helen says, looking up. Her eyes are huge and round. "You'll always help me, won't you?"

Aphrodite smiles sweetly. On her way out, she passes Clytemnestra's room. _Why wasn't it me, why wasn't it me?_ she thinks mockingly. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion. She contemplates saying something, but in the end she just rolls her eyes and keeps moving. 

*

Aphrodite visits again in a few years. This time, she's watching each of Helen's many, many suitors kneel before her and her father. They promise to defend Helen's husband. Aphrodite is sometimes stunned by the stupidity of mortals. There is no way this can end well. 

Clytemnestra is watching from the side and Aphrodite stands beside her. Clytemnestra is the only one who can see her. Aphrodite doesn't want to spoil Helen's big day. 

"There are so many of them," Clytemnestra says at last. 

"Yes," Aphrodite says fondly. "She is just so pretty."

"I'm pretty," Clytemnestra says. "I'm pretty too." She has the air of one trying desperately to convince herself.

"You would be beautiful and sought after," Aphrodite tells her, "if you weren't standing next to your sister."

Clytemnestra's eyes well up. They shimmer brightly in the light. Aphrodite is getting fed up.

"Honestly, child. You're going to marry Agamemnon. Is the King of Kings not enough for you?"

Clytemnestra doesn't speak for a while, until, "So my marriage will be better than her marriage?"

"I don't know about that," Aphrodite responds. She's bored again. Ugly people and their ugly emotions. Perhaps she'll pay a visit to that servant girl from last time. The one with the beautiful breasts and long, slender fingers. What was her name again?

"I will be loved," Clytemnestra says, satisfied.

"In a manner of speaking," Aphrodite says before she leaves. She throws one last glance back at Helen, radiant in the sunlight. 

*

Helen is six months gone by the time Aphrodite remembers to visit again. Her breasts have grown and Aphrodite wants to feel the new, heavier weight of them on her palms. Her nipples are dark and hard. Helen sighs and opens her eyes.

"How long have you been here?" she asks. Aphrodite smiles.

"A while. Not long."

Helen sighs again and brings one hand up to the curve of her belly.

"My beautiful baby," Aphrodite whispers, sliding onto the bed. "Has Menelaus been neglecting you?"

"I just," Helen starts, then stops, frustrated. "I just want more." She slides her hand down to her crotch and tugs lightly on the hair. Aphrodite stares at her fingers wound in the dark curls and she wants too. She reaches out and strokes the curve of Helen's breast. Helen's eyes flutter shut and she shifts her hips minutely. Aphrodite pinches a nipple between her thumb and forefinger and watches it get harder and bigger. Helen pushes her hand down further and starts rubbing her clit. Aphrodite can smell her scent getting stronger. She smells delicious. There's pink rising in her cheeks as she pushes her hips slowly up into her hand, again and again. 

Helen's moans are soft and sweet. Aphrodite tangles the fingers of her other hand with Helen's in the heat of Helen's crotch and together they stroke along the wet folds. Helen lets her hand drop to the bed sheet. She licks her lips and they glisten. _Her mouth is so pretty_ , Aphrodite thinks and speeds up her fingers on Helen's clit. Helen's mouth falls open _(even prettier)_ and her gasps come quicker now. The pink in her cheeks is spreading and she looks flushed all over. Her breasts are hot and heavy and Aphrodite was absolutely right, they feel amazing in her palms. She flicks her thumb across one nipple and Helen gasps loudly one last time, arching her back as Aphrodite strokes her through it. 

Helen lies back on the bed. There's damp along her hairline and across her chest. She's breathing heavily and her smell fills the air. 

"You're so gorgeous," Aphrodite tells her. Helen looks at her through barely-open eyes. "You deserve better than him." 

Helen hums non-committally. Her eyes slide shut again and Aphrodite leaves her to sleep.

*

Aphrodite is exhilarated. Aphrodite is exultant. Aphrodite is intoxicated. She laughs, clear and bright, as she slips her robe back onto her shoulder. Paris' glazed eyes focus slightly more and fall to the curve of her neck. Hera and Athena slink away, defeated. Aphrodite is delirious. Her entire body is thrumming with the energy of having won, of having defeated them. She glides closer to Paris. His breathing quickens and his mouth falls open. His pretty, pretty mouth. His cock is hard under his clothes, Aphrodite can tell.

Aphrodite strokes her fingers down his cheek and he doubles over, shuddering and panting through his climax. She just laughs again. She still has so much energy. 

She takes the apple from him, her prize. It's big and red, the same red that Aurora paints the morning sky. Aphrodite sinks her teeth into its flesh; it's the perfect combination of crunchy and juicy. She licks her lips to catch the drop that's about to escape. Paris is still staring at her, wrecked and gasping for air. His gaze is hot on her skin and she wants, she wants. 

Maybe she should visit Anchises, while she's here.

*

Paris is finally recognised as Priam's son. When Aphrodite arrives in Sparta, he's staring longingly at Helen.

"I told you, didn't I?" Aphrodite says, delighted.

"She's so," Paris falters, "she's gorgeous."

Aphrodite preens as though he said it about herself. She slides in closer behind him.

"She'll be yours. I promised, didn't I?" 

Paris' eyes droop shut and he tilts his head towards her slightly. She laughs lightly and abandons him. 

"Helen, my love," she whispers in her ear that night. "What do you think of Paris? Isn't he terribly attractive?"

Helen turns her head on the pillow to look at Aphrodite. "I know what you're trying to do. I don't want that." 

Aphrodite pouts. "Why not? He's good-looking enough. His cock is a little on the thin side but it's lovely and long."

Helen shakes her head. "No, no, I don't want to know. He's young, he's arrogant, he's so foolish-"

"Be quiet," Aphrodite commands. Helen is frowning. Aphrodite doesn't like the way she looks when she frowns. "You will want him too."

Helen stays silent, but she looks pleadingly at Aphrodite. Her eyes are so large and entrancing. 

"You will want him," Aphrodite promises. She looks up at the door. "He's here."

Helen opens the door and lets Paris in.

*

Aphrodite is really quite grateful she did what she did. It just makes everything so much more convenient. She stretches her muscles gratefully; Anchises may be old but he never lost what brought her to him in the first place. Cocks don't shrink with age, after all.

She stops by Helen's room afterwards. She finds these days that it's so much easier to deal with Helen after she's had an orgasm. It's like Helen doesn't even want to acknowledge how much Aphrodite has done for her. She just sits there and moans. Aphrodite sees her from heaven too, talking to her servants, complaining at them, giving orders. It makes her less attractive. Aphrodite wishes she would just sit still; she gets kind of annoyed by Helen. 

"What's wrong now?" she asks as she enters the room. Helen is sitting by the window, looking out at the sea, but she turns at Aphrodite's voice.

"They all hate me here," she states and there's a pout in her voice. Aphrodite laughs. 

"People will always hate you. Beauty is a curse which preys on the minds of the unfortunate ugly."

"But they have reason to here," Helen continues. She looks back out of the window, towards the Greek encampments. Aphrodite cannot truly believe that she would rather be with that old fart Menelaus than with Paris. Beautiful, if somewhat dim, Paris. Aphrodite has seen for herself how attractive he can be when he's coming. 

"I don't want to be here." 

Aphrodite approaches. "Oh darling. You're just stressed." She strokes Helen's hair off her forehead and Helen leans into her breast, eyes closing. "I know the cure for stress."

Helen looks up at her, oh so appealing. Aphrodite can see dread fill her eyes when Paris enters. "You'll be fine," she reassure her and closes the door on her way out.

*

Aphrodite visits Clytemnestra four years after her sister's face launched a thousand ships. She seems pretty mopey, but then again she always does. Aphrodite feels a fleeting moment of pity.

"What can I do for you?" she offers, just this once.

"Even he loves her," Clytemnestra complains. Aphrodite is already sick of her again. "He was my husband and he would still kill our child in order to bring her back."

Aphrodite cannot abide the stupidity of this woman. Stupid, ugly and always so jealous.

"What do you want me to do?" she repeats. She's offered now. Clytemnestra looks up at her. Her eyes are round and glistening and in that moment, she reminds Aphrodite of Helen.

"I want someone to love me," she pleads. It's pathetic, but it's something Aphrodite can do.

"I can arrange that," she says. Clytemnestra can have Aegisthus.

*

Aphrodite interrupts something the next time she goes to Troy. Helen is lying spread-eagled on her bed, Paris' curly head buried between her legs. Well, well, well. Time for a show.

Only Helen doesn't seem too interested. She can be so ungrateful. Aphrodite slides in beside her. Helen glances around the room, looking bored. This can't be right. The boy must be doing something wrong.

Aphrodite sighs. As always, if she wants something done right, she just has to do it herself. She slithers down the bed and takes over for Paris. 

Helen's scent fills her nostrils; this close, she can even feel the heat coming off her. She's wet, not just from Paris' tongue, so he can't be all bad. Aphrodite leans in and licks a stripe up her pussy. The taste, oh lord how Aphrodite has missed that taste. It's been a while since she's had a girl like this. She licks deeper, and it's warm and earthy and a little sweet. Helen moans, finally, and buries her fingers in Paris' long curly hair. Aphrodite grins against her cunt. She lets Helen's hands guide her for a while, up to her clit, but she varies the pressure, now hard, now teasing. She loves the way Helen's fingers clench against Paris' scalp. 

Helen is letting out little noises now, sweet little whimpers. Paris has gorgeous hands, Aphrodite will say that much for him; she slides two long fingers home inside Helen. Helen groans at that, shifts her hips up more into Paris' face. Aphrodite takes the hint and licks harder, fingers moving in and out. Helen moves faster, arching through her orgasm. She twists Paris' hair around her fingers and clenches all her muscles in unison. Aphrodite wishes she could see her face right now. This unguarded moment is always when people look their best.

Helen loosens her grasp, spent now. She's panting on the bed, legs still spread around Paris' body. Aphrodite leaves him there and heads home. That should keep Helen interested for a while longer. With a bit of luck, Paris will have some idea what to do next time too.

*

The war just goes on so long, you know? Four years, seven, when is it going to end? Aphrodite gets bored. Still, she finds ways to entertain herself.

She slumps to the side, panting, as Ares pulls out. She feels nicely sore; Ares is having the time of his life the last few years and it shows in their sex life. Aphrodite leans over and runs her fingers up and down his chest. It's broad and toned and, right now, covered in a sheen of sweat. She licks over a small patch by his nipple. 

"Did you hear?" he asks, one strong hand sliding down to cup her ass. "Paris. He died."

"Oh," Aphrodite says. She lies back. "That's a shame." It is. He was beautiful, and he and Helen were beautiful together. 

"Philoctetes," Ares is saying. "Challenged him to single combat. It was a pretty impressive fight, after all. Turns out your one was scrappy when pushed to it."

"Philoctetes, Philoctetes," Aphrodite muses. "The last thing I heard about him, he was trapped on that island."

Ares lets out a guffaw. "That was ages ago! They went and got him. He's been fighting quite well. He's got this one move, where he takes his sword-"

Aphrodite tunes him out. No more Paris is a shame. She wonders how Helen is.

"Ares," she says, cutting him off. "Shut up and fuck me again, will you?"

*

Helen, it turns out, has been given as bride to Deiphobos. She's crying when Aphrodite arrives, but that has always been her wont. Aphrodite ignores the tears, as usual. They don't make her too unspeakably ugly.

"I've been handed off like cattle," Helen says when she sees Aphrodite. Aphrodite doesn't say anything. It's true. Helen doesn't deserve Deiphobos. She's much too pretty for him.

"Don't worry," Aphrodite reassures her. "It won't be long."

"What won't?" Helen says, and she looks up with those big, gorgeous eyes of hers. She sounds hopeful. Aphrodite is reminded of her as a child.

"Soon. You can go back to where you wanted to be since this whole silly business with Paris started."

Helen looks down. "He wasn't so bad. In the end." Indeed. Things can always be worse.

"I know, child," Aphrodite responds and she strokes her hair. "Soon."

*

Troy is being sacked and Aphrodite wants to be there for Helen. She knows she won't be harmed, but she doesn't like to think of her scared. She finds Helen crouched in the corner of her room. She's clutching her robes about her and staring around with wild eyes. 

"Will you protect me?" Helen begs. She still doesn't trust Aphrodite. When has Aphrodite ever done anything that wasn't in her best interests?

The door to her room slams open and Menelaus crashes in. Helen shrieks momentarily. Menelaus is advancing on her. He's clutching his sword and his eyes are burning into her. Aphrodite waits for the opportune moment.

Menelaus grabs Helen by one wrist and pulls her up. As he raises his sword, he robe falls off her shoulder. She's beautiful, even in terror. Her back has been scraped across the stone walls and there's a red patch, angry against her pale skin. Her hair falls loose, carelessly, over the mound of her shoulder. Her eyes are wide, terrified, and glistening with tears. Aphrodite has never seen her so breathtaking. She makes Menelaus see it too.

Menelaus drops his arm. Helen looks up at him in amazement. "Come back with me," he says.

*

Aphrodite is preoccupied with her son until she realises that years have passed since the Fall of Troy. She returns to Sparta. 

Helen is old now. Aphrodite can't recall the number of years that have passed since she watched Helen receive vows from her suitors, or since she watched Helen on her wedding night. Helen's breasts are sagging. There are wrinkles lining her face and discoloured blemishes across the skin of her arms and neck. She's still more beautiful than most of the girls Aphrodite has ever seen.

She's outside, picking her way along a dusty path. "I was wondering when you'd remember me," she says, clear and strong.

"My child," Aphrodite says fondly. "I could never forget you."

Helen just smiles demurely. "I'm not what I was then," she says, staring at the mountains in the distance.

"You would still send thousands of men to their deaths with only a smile."

Helen looks shocked, but after a while, she just laughs. Aphrodite leans in and presses a kiss to her lips. 

"I wonder if you'll come back to see me before I die," Helen says. Aphrodite does wish she wasn't always so macabre. 

"Well," Aphrodite says. She can't promise anything. There are always so many beautiful things to see in the world. 

"I'd like to," Helen starts. "See you again, I mean." She pauses. "You're always so beautiful." 

Aphrodite smiles, pleased. "I'll try." 

 


End file.
